


Transfixed

by freshwoods



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Bottom Steve Rogers, Daddy Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 11:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18030944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshwoods/pseuds/freshwoods
Summary: Some good Stucky daddy kink featuring twink Steve and Daddy Bucky





	Transfixed

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [my tumblr](https://freshwoods.tumblr.com/post/182441279993/transfixed).

When Steve’s new roommate invites him to join his group of friends on their clubbing excursion, Steve isn’t too sure about it—but he’s new to the city and it’s the day before his semester starts, so he agrees anyway. They’d already adopted him into their group of friends and take great pleasure in dressing him up in a mesh crop top and low slung navy cargos, talking the whole way there about how they’re not going to rest until they find him a sugar daddy. Steve blushes profusely, glad to finally have some queer friends but feeling a little out of his element from their attention.

The group splits up almost immediately, his roommate staying with him for a little while as they dance to some songs before Steve walks off the floor and heads to the bar in search of water. He’s not old enough to drink yet and the bar is crowded, so it takes several minutes for Steve to finally get surface. When Steve finally gets his overpriced bottle of water, he’s antsy—the music thrumming in his veins making him want to move.

He takes a much needed sip, the heat of the press of bodies already starting to get to him in the best way. He turns around, water bottle still poised at his lips, stepping away from the bar—and promptly runs into someone.

Water runs down over Steve’s chin and onto his chest and Steve watches in horror as water splashes onto the front of a deliciously tight gray v-neck covered chest.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” The man in front of him pulls a little at his shirt, lifting the wet spot away from his chest before Steve hears the deep sigh—and it sends shivers down his spine. Steve can almost hear the disappointment in it and caps his water quickly. “I wasn’t watching where I was go—” Steve chooses that moment to look up at the man and he very nearly swallows his tongue. “Fuck.”

The man in front of him stares Steve down with a ferocity that makes Steve’s pulse beat faster under his skin. The man’s hair is brushed back, dark but with gray starting at his temples and the center of his close-trimmed, full beard. He looks like every fantasy daddy Steve’s ever wanted. The man crosses his arms over his chest, covering the wet spot, and raises a brow in Steve’s direction. “You were saying…?”

Steve’s speechless for a long moment before he shoves his water bottle into one of his cargo pockets—giving a mental thank you to his new friends for the outfit. “…Right. Sorry. About your shirt, I mean. I wasn’t paying attention.” He cocks his head to the side and bites his lip in the way he knows guys think is cute. “Can I make it up to you with a dance?”

The man lets out a laugh that looks like it takes him by surprise. It sounds rich and deep and fills Steve’s head with ideas. “I’m too old to dance with you. You look like you’re barely legal.”

Steve grins wickedly. “I’m old enough.”

The man’s eyes crinkle at the edges. “Old enough for what?”

Steve leans a little closer at that, lowering his voice. “I could show you if you’d like to find out.”

The man continues to look at him for a long moment, his eyes raking over Steve’s face. The man licks his lips ever so slightly and Steve’s brain short circuits. “Something tells me you’re trouble.”

It takes a short moment for Steve to recover. He reaches out, feeling suddenly bold, and scratches a little at the man’s beard. “And something tells me you’d have a lot to teach me…but I promise if I’m too naughty you can spank me.” Steve ends his flirtation with an over exaggerated wink.

The man opens his mouth to say something but the music changes and Steve recognizes the song. It’s a new bop that’s become he and his roommate’s song. He looks around, trying to find him, before glancing back at the man in front of him, his own body already starting to sway to the beat. “You sure you don’t want that dance, handsome?”

The man makes a sound of assent and Steve grins at him one more time as he steps backwards toward the dancefloor. “You’ll know where to find me when you change your mind.” Steve finally breaks eye-contact with him as he gets swallowed up into the crowd, dancing to the rhythm.

He finds his roommate and they dance together, really going for it. Steve grinds up against him, lets his roommate twine his arms around Steve and pull him close. Steve glances around, feeling the sweat bead over his skin. It’s hot and hazy and he loves every moment of being on the dancefloor. The song changes and another body presses up against him. His roommate winks at him and leaves when the shirtless stranger—probably around Steve’s age—dark and handsome, approaches and grabs his hips. Steve goes willingly, grinning as the stranger takes possession of the dance.

They move a little closer to the side of the dancefloor, more people materializing around them, and through a part in the crowd, Steve glimpses at the man from earlier. His movements stutter when the man’s eyes find his, staring at him over the glass of some amber-colored liquor as he leaned casually back against the bar. Steve bites his lip at the heat that races up his spine—and it’s got nothing to do with the man pressing himself to Steve’s back, or the way the strangers hands snake up under his mesh crop top to caress his chest.

The other man’s eyes rake over Steve’s body, slow and sensuous, and Steve bites his lip as he catches the other man smirk into his glass before looking away. His skin is suddenly too hot, his pulse too fast. He tries to lose himself once more in the dance, in the feel of the stranger’s body, the strangers hands on his skin. It’s almost enough—almost. But Steve’s aware of the man by the bar, his eyes seeking out verification of their own accord that the man’s still watching him.

Steve’s not expecting it when he feels the strangers mouth on the side of his neck. Steve gasps, going still for a moment before he presses back against the embrace and tilting his head to give the stranger more access.

His eyes catch the man at the bar’s once more and Steve watches in fascination as the man’s jaw ticks for a moment before he downs the rest of his drink, setting the glass on the bar behind him.

And then he stalks over, the people on the dancefloor parting ways for him—his intense look completely focused on Steve. Steve swallows hard, feeling even more flushed when the man grabs him from out of the arms of the younger stranger. Steve thinks he hears a protest, but the man throws a glare over Steve’s shoulder at him and then Steve can’t think of anything else at all—because the sexy, gorgeous older man presses against him, the water on his shirt long since dried, his solid chest and thighs pressing along the line of Steve’s body. Steve wraps his arms around his neck, fingers tightening in his hair when he feels one of the man’s jean-covered thighs press between his legs. It steals Steve’s breath, suddenly making him aware of how hard he is—from the dancing and the press of bodies, but mostly from this man.

Steve gasps as the man’s tongue licks at an errant drop of sweat running down over Steve’s collarbone. “Fuck!”

The man’s husky laugh takes him by surprise. “That can be arranged.” He feels the man’s warm breath ghost over his skin and shivers. “What’s your name, sweet thing?”

Steve bites his lip for a moment, looking through his lashes at the other man. “Steve. What’s yours, Daddy?”

Steve grins at the flash of want that crosses the man’s face. “Bucky. But I think I prefer the other thing.” The man’s—Bucky’s—arms tightens around Steve as he presses his thigh harder between Steve’s legs. He leans closer, his lips ghosting across Steve’s ear. “Wanna take this someplace a little more private?”

Steve nods enthusiastically and lets Bucky grab his hand and pull him through the crowd toward the back of the club. They head into the bathroom and Steve feels a blush start to color his face as a couple people follow their movements with their eyes and notice their linked hands.

But then Bucky pushes him into the last stall at the end and grinds against him as he covers Steve’s lips with his in a filthy hot kiss that makes Steve’s toes curl and his dick throb at the feel of Bucky’s erection against his. Bucky kisses him like he wants to devour Steve and Steve kisses back like that’s all he wants. He feels the other man’s hands on his hips, thumbs sweeping over his bare skin, before Bucky breaks the kiss and spins Steve around. Steve puts both hands on the wall for balance, letting out a small sound as he feels Bucky’s hands undoing his pants before he pushes them down around Steve’s knees.

“Fuck,” Steve lets out a stuttering breath when he feels Bucky kiss at his shoulders and the back of his neck, palming Steve’s ass and pressing a dry finger over his hole. Steve presses back into the touch. “Mmm. Gonna fuck me, Daddy?”

Bucky’s breath huffs out and his hand moves. A moment later Steve feels his denim covered erection press snuggly up against his bare ass. Steve moans.

“You sure you can handle it, baby?” He grinds against Steve and Steve whimpers. “Or are you all talk.”

Steve looks over his shoulder at Bucky. “Please, Daddy. I need it.”

Bucky’s eyes darken. “How bad do you need it, sweetheart? Bad enough to just let anyone in this pretty little ass?” Steve whimpers when Bucky brings his palm down to spank at Steve’s ass.

“N-no.”

Bucky’s hand soothes the ache. “No? Then why did you let that guy put his mouth on you? Were you trying to be naughty and hoping I would punish you?”

Steve whimpers again, face flushing at being called out. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ll be good from now on, I promise. Just for you. Only for you.”

Bucky lets out a soft chuckle and he reaches into his back pocket to pull out a packet of lube and a condom. Steve shivers when Bucky steps away to bring his lube-covered fingers back to between his legs, working him open quick and rough, an imitation of what Steve hopes his fucking will be like. Heat pools low in his belly when Bucky fucks his fingers into him, grazing his prostate. It doesn’t last long before the fingers disappear and Steve hears the distinct sound of a zipper and clothes rustling, then the foil condom wrapper tearing open.

Strong hands grab his hips and pull him back and Steve has to bend over to keep his balance. A hand leaves and the other grips him tighter, then Steve feels the blunt pressure of a cock pressing against him. Not just any cock—Bucky’s. It feels better than any fantasy Steve could’ve come up with. Steve whimpers, “Fuck. You’re so big.” He pants when Bucky starts to move—to fuck him hard and rough and deep—all the ways Steve’s been craving.

One of Bucky’s hands tangle in Steve’s hair, pulling roughly, making Steve’s head crane back and his spine curve, letting Bucky hit his sweet spot on every thrust. Steve lets out a constant stream of “Daddy” and “fuck” and “more” and “harder” until Bucky obliges and Steve’s reduced to a nonverbal mess, everything inside of him narrowing down to the feel of Bucky’s cock inside of him and the heat low in his stomach, the ache between his legs. Steve shifts and reaches a hand down between his legs, wrapping it around his cock.

“‘M close,” Steve moans.

Bucky’s hand in his hair tightens to the point where Steve feels tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, but he loves every second of it.

“Yeah,” Bucky’s words are low and rough; they make Steve shiver. “Come for me baby. Come for Daddy.”

A whimper escapes Steve’s open mouth and he strips his cock hard and fast, Bucky’s thrusts speeding up as he chases his own orgasm. Steve doesn’t last long under the onslought and comes hard against the wall of the bathroom stall. He’s still shuddering and trying to keep his balance when Bucky pulls out. Steve hears the unmistakable sound of the condom coming off. He looks over his shoulder to see Bucky stroking his cock and he watches, transfixed by the sight and the sounds of all of the man’s low grunts, until Bucky comes all over Steve’s ass.

Steve lets out another moan at that, thinking he could probably go again just from the feeling of Bucky coming on him like this.

“Fuckkk,” Bucky breathes hard. “Fuck, that was amazing. You were amazing.”

It’s all Steve can do to just nod as he turns to the side to lean against the wall. Bucky leans forward and kisses Steve one more time. “Sorry about the mess, kid.”

Steve shrugs. “I’m not. That was hot as fuck. Made me feel like I belong to you—to my Daddy.”

“Mmm. Good.” Bucky pressed one last lingering kiss to Steve’s lips, his beard scratching at his skin, before he backed away and pulled his pants back up, adjusting his hair with a casual brush of his fingers, before he left the stall with a wink and a “be a good boy and get cleaned up now.”

It took Steve a good couple minutes for his pulse to be under control enough to follows those orders. He doesn’t notice the slip of paper with a number on it in one of the pockets of his cargos until later that night, and he smiles when he finally falls asleep.

Steve starts the next day unable to get the man from the bar out of his head. He somehow manages to get ready and presentable in a fog, then heads to campus, eager to meet with his advisor. When he finally makes it there, the professor’s door is open and Steve walks through, throwing a rap of his knuckles on it as he does so. “Steve Rogers here for your ten o’clock…”

And then the man sitting behind the desk looks up at him—and Steve recognizes that salt and pepper beard, that pushed back dark hair, those intense eyes, that sinful mouth that made all his dirty talk fantasies come to life last night—and Steve knows he’s fucked.


End file.
